


Like Leonard de Quirm, I have difficulty naming things.  This is the business with the wolves, the teacher, and the wardrobe.

by Zoya1416



Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett
Genre: Gen, Genetics, School, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-15
Updated: 2013-11-15
Packaged: 2018-01-01 15:02:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1045301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zoya1416/pseuds/Zoya1416
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's hot. And muggy.And stifling. Susan Sto-Helit wishes she were anywhere but in Frout's academy, and to those of a certain heritage, wishes can become real.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like Leonard de Quirm, I have difficulty naming things.  This is the business with the wolves, the teacher, and the wardrobe.

**Author's Note:**

> Discworld and all its characters belong to Terry Pratchett. I am only borrowing them.

Susan Sto-Helit was hot. It was muggy and stifling. It was a week before the end of the spring semester at Frout Academy, and there was not a breeze to be had. The Academy was built more along the lines of keeping the heat in for the long winter, rather than letting it out. Therefore, there was no place inside where a cross breeze, or even a slightly irritated one, could stray. Susan was in a long black dress, and sensible boots, which was what she always wore. She had seven dresses in her closet, exactly the same. And a long purple sparkly thing that she had no memory of buying. With a feather boa.

It was too hot for the students to concentrate well, so she had set them to drawing pictures of cool things. She didn't notice that although they'd started out with different concepts: the seashore, a couple of slushy brown snowmen, ice cold lemonade, they had now all centered on drawing forests. Susan liked forests, although she'd never lived in one, and rarely visited, mostly when she could urge Binky to settle down in one after they'd finished their Duty. It always infuriated her when Grandfather toddled off unexpectedly and left the scythe work to her. Her reward to herself was to explore new parts of Discworld. Klatch, Lancre, Genua, the Counterweight Continent, the Agatean empire, even XXXX, which hadn't been discovered yet.* 

*Properly, that is. Just living in the place for fifteen thousand years didn't count. To discover something you had to be wearing proper clothes.

Although she would deny that she ever napped in class, Susan was leaning back in her chair with her eyes closed. Her thoughts had begun to circle the same way, too. Green pines and their lovely scent, soft pine needles cushioning the ground. Streams which remained cool in the summer, lakes with restful inviting banks.**

**Susan had never actually been near a forest lake in the summer time. She had no concept of vampire mosquitoes, stinging gnats, or the tiny no-see-um's which could not be detected until after the sting and would hurt like fury for a week.

Susan daydreamed. The children worked quietly, which should have been a Clue.

The walls of the classroom gave a slight shiver and then fell away. Susan woke up in a forest glade. The trick to being a successful teacher, besides letting children read as many books as possible, as long as they never contained a puppy or kitten, was never being surprised. If one fell through her chair because of Jason's labor with an illegal hacksaw, one turned it into a lesson on craftsmanship, design, and the choice of woods. She also gave Jason THE LOOK which kept him quiet for the rest of the day, somehow only able to think of pine boxes.

So now they were all in a forest. In late evening, it appeared, a bit before sunset. The slow sunlight of the Disc was rolling over the edge, with shafts of gold, and an embarrassing amount of pink and rose. In the distance they saw an anvil-shaped thunderhead which was quietly flickering to itself, waiting for the right time to flood an innocent village. 

Susan cleared her throat. “So what we have here is a forest. Can anyone tell me whether this forest is in the lowlands, or the mountains?”

They looked at her and then at the peak behind her. “Right, well spotted. But what kind of trees do you get here that you don't get in a lowland forest?” Ignoring Victor's outstretched arm, she lined them up and made them pick out different trees and shrubs. The only way to keep ahead of them was to remember that time in Lancre where she'd collected the witch. Thankfully she had her eidetic memory to fall back on. 

The children were excited as only a class can be who had escaped the Frout for even a while. And it was cool, with a breeze, and the mosquitoes were barely kind and gentle reminders of the insects who would one day take over the Disc. She'd forgotten how pleasant Lancre could be. And it must be said, as a rare mark against Susan, that she'd forgotten that in Lancre the country is all up and down, with fewer level parts than the new hairstyle in Ankh-Morpork which requires four ounces of builder's glue to erect.

They spotted animals: chipmunks, rabbits, hedgehogs, a couple of bounding deer, a vermine. It presently occurred to Susan that the animals were all going the same direction, crossing from the forest on the right into the glade on the left. The animals must have been disturbed by their arrival. For a minute she started to lecture the class about how a thing cannot be observed without altering the state of that thing, but decided to wait until tomorrow when she could find a kitten. Then the sun slipped over the edge, and she heard a howl.

It would have frightened her to the marrow if she'd been wholly human, but as it was she analyzed it properly, turned around her class, and started back to the glade.

“Oooh, miss, that was a wolf!”

“Probably a big dog. People keep bigger dogs in the country.”

Another howl.

“Or possibly a parrot-they can imitate sounds amazingly.”

“Nuh uh, miss, my Dad comes from Uberwald and he can do wolf noises like this!”

And to Susan's dismay the whole class began to practice howling, out of sync at first, and then aligning together in a chorus.

“Shut up!” hissed Susan. She never told the class to shut up and they stared at her.

“Miss?”

Susan had realized that she wasn't in Lancre. She was in Uberwald. There were miles and miles of bloody Uberwald, and there were a few normal wolf packs, which typically avoided humans. But the howlers tonight seemed more mocking than usual, and she was afraid, no, not afraid, sensibly concerned, alright, a little afraid that these werewo-  
No! Don't think it! Because the Disc is heavy with background magic, and speaking the name of something was a good way to draw its attention.

She inventoried. She did have a silver pin, tucked in a fold of her dress, because it disturbed people who noticed the crossed scythes with hourglass rampant. The sharp part was less than an inch long, and although she didn't know the chemistry of the thing, it didn't seem enough to deter a werewolf.

She had to try. “Goodness! This is quite a field trip! If these were not ordinary wolves, what could we do?

“Oooh, miss, dig a pit and put big spikes in, and while they were sticking, throw torches down on them, nnn, then more big spikes and traps if they try to climb out!” This was Jason, and was at least a positive suggestion.

Miss, Miss, I know that werewo--” 

“We're not sure they're werewolves, we're just doing a thought exercise.”  
“Er, then, miss, why are we running?”

“Good exercise, Belinda. It wouldn't hurt some of us to get more exercise.”  
She'd forgotten that Belinda was the one who needed it most, and then winced at herself.

“Miss, miss, werewolves hate silver!”

“Good, good, and does anybody have any silver?” She tried not to sound too hopeful. It was amazing how hard it was to maintain self control while running in a forest at dusk, away from were—no.

The class actually had a bit of silver, as their parents were wealthy. Silver coins were the most common, but Belinda had a large brooch, and Susan thanked her wheezingly.

There were a few smaller pins, religious amulets of Om's turtle, and blessed be, eight or 9 students whose parents followed Anoia. Small silver ladles, spatulas, spoons, an egg whisk, and a soup tureen were dug out. It wasn't much, but if they got back to the clearing and got some torches--

They arrived at the clearing, where Susan discovered three things. One, that it was possible to see a ghostly classroom in the dark, and two, that werewolves were very clever. Only half the pack was behind her. The others were resting comfortably in a ring around the classroom. Three, she'd forgotten she was DEATH's granddaughter. With a snap of her finger, and an exclamation which sounded very much like, “I CAN'T BE DOING WITH THIS,” she froze time. The students were poised like statues of a marathon, and the wolves like black shapes nailed to the ground. 

Susan carried two students at a time into the ghostly classroom. Madame Frout was going to be very angry when she discovered an entire classroom of children missing at the end of the day. Susan was angry, too, at herself. It was not the fact that she was going to be out of a job—she was the Duchess of Sto-Helit and could take up those duties anytime—but that she'd endangered her students by, essentially, daydreaming. This needed to be explored more, but not NOW, when she had carried the last student, Jason, over the threshold. She couldn't abandon Jason, no matter how often he transgressed.

Once back to the ghostly square, she tried to think. 

“How do I get us back? She looked down, saw she only had her black boots on, and decided that saying, “There's no place like home” was stupid. She couldn't try to find Binky—Grandfather would be very annoyed, and since Binky was a real horse, he could carry only two or three at a time. Broomsticks? How to find the witches?

Then finally her heartbeat slowed, and she remembered. She closed her eyes and concentrated on her classroom. The reading circle. The students' drawings. The works of General Tacticus. Diagrams which an Igor had sent her, with far too much detail, which the class had adored. The smell of those not-quite-toilet-trained, which never went away, and finally The Stationery Closet. This ordinary wardrobe was the Holy Grail of the classroom, and especially to Jason, who was forever trying to get into it. The colored pencils. The squares of construction paper. Safety scissors. And holiest of all, the stars. Gold and silver, she could feel them swirling in the night breeze.

It was hot. And stifling. And muggy. She would have sent up blessings, but her mind didn't run that way. She snapped her fingers again, and the students were in their seats. The drawings were of snowmen, and icy lemonade, and frozen custard, and everything cool except a forest. And the hands of the clock were just as she'd left them.  
The students woke up. 

“Oooh, miss, that was great, let's do it again.”

“I want to pet the wolves next time.”

“Why is it daylight here and dark there?” This intelligent question was from Victor.

“What do you think might cause that?”

He wrinkled his brow. “'Cos the sun goes around the Disc the same way every day, but it's not at the same place everywhere. Is it?”

“Good answer, Victor. We'll talk about this more Monday.”

When the last student trickled out, Susan put her head down on her arms. Presently she said, “Did you know I could do that?”

I THOUGHT YOU MIGHT.

Why didn't you ever tell me? We might have been killed there!”

NO, YOU WOULDN'T. I LOOKED AT ALL THE HOURGLASSES.

“That's a big help! We might have been mauled!”

YOUR STUDENTS CERTAINLY LEARNED SOME LESSONS TODAY, DIDN'T THEY?

“Yeah, like don't all draw the same thing at once—this is a belief thing, isn't it?”

PARTLY. YOU NEEDED THEIR BELIEF THIS TIME. NOW THAT YOU KNOW, YOU CAN DO IT BY YOURSELF.

“To the seashore, maybe. Except if there's a hurricane. Or...to Klatch, if we're studying it. Will we have problems if we stay in the classroom?”

NO. AND NOW I MUST GO. THE DUTY.

She got up and tidied her papers. Frowningly, she picked up a few pine needles and put them in the trash. Then she pulled them out again, put them in her pocket, and walked out the door.  
***********  
Death said quizzically to the woman in the deep black dress, so dark and rich, it made Susan's drab,

WHY DID YOU SEND THE WOLVES TO THEM?

“I don't vant strangers near my castle.”

THEY WERE A HUNDRED MILES AWAY.

“It vas still my land. They should not haff been there.”

YOU WERE NEVER GOING TO LET THEM BE HURT.

She sniffed. “A regular protectiff granddad you are these days.”

He loomed over her with those electric blue eyes and she remembered that even vampires still have another death left.

ANYTHING BUT GRANDDAD, MARGOLOTTA. OR GRAMPS. AND SUSAN IS OFF-LIMITS. YOU OWE ME FOR ANOTHER ROBE. THE DOGGIES CHEWED IT A BIT.

“Vell, send it back and I vill fix it. Good effening, and I hope you vill not haff to return soon.”

They smiled at each other, with all their teeth.


End file.
